Remembering Him
by Rasberry Parfait
Summary: Everybody was sad when he died, even the people he didn't know. Maybe that was because he'd left such a mark on the school. Cedric's funeral from the point-of-view of a random fourth-year girl. No pairings.


A/N: So, I was kinda sad this week, because this guy I knew died. I didn't know him that well, I think I only met him once, but it really shook me. And when you don't know them that well, you don't really know what to feel, like you don't know how sad you're "allowed" to be...you know?  
So...I was kind of feeling better today, and I watched Goblet of Fire with my nephew, and I'm listening to Dumbledore's speech at Cedric's funeral, and it just kind of...made me feel like it was okay that I'd been sad, you know? It helped.

So I guess I kind of decided to write this as a form of closure...I hope you like it anyway.

Disclaimer: I only wish I owned Harry Potter.

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All year, I've been trying to remember where I know the boy from. I've seen his face before, but it's felt like...I _know _him. Not well, but I think I've had a conversation with him before or something. I kept trying to remember about it, if it was really him or someone else, when it took place, or if I've just gone insane.

Now I'm sitting in the Great Hall, way in the back. I kept stalling coming down here, and I don't know why. And all I can think is that I've got to remember. It feels as if, as soon as this is over, I'll have lost any chance of remembering him, and somehow, I just cannot let that happen.

I'm crying into Riley's shoulder, trying to stay quiet. My brother usually just tells me to suck it up when I cry; as it is, he just keeps his arm around me and doesn't say anything. I'm oblivious to anything around me until a part of Professor Dumbledore's eulogy gets through to me.

"The pain that we all feel in our hearts..."

I don't know why, but I look up and suddenly listen intensely, enraptured, as he transitions from speaking of sorrow and gloom to hope and happiness.

I'm still sad. It doesn't make it all better...

But it helps.

And then, suddenly, it's gone. Everyone stands up and starts walking away. Riley helps me up and we're halfway out the door when someone knocks into me from behind. I stumble two steps forward, but don't fall.

"Sorry," the boy says. He makes eye contact only for a few seconds before moving on, but it's enough to stick me to my spot, speechless. I recognize him-Harry Potter, who doesn't recognize him?-but that's not the first thing I notice, and that's not why I stop. The first thing I notice are his eyes. They're bigger than I've ever seen them, huge with grief, with sorrow, guilt, unimaginable agony. It almost puts me to shame, as if I've had no right to be crying when this boy, without saying a word, without meaning to say anything, makes it utterly clear that he's suffering ten times as much as I am.

He waits for my response, but I'm too stunned to say anything. Everything already running through my mind would, should be more than enough explanation for that, but it isn't. There's something else about him effecting me like that, and I can't put my finger on it.

I just stare at him.

Finally, slowly, he walks away, looking a bit concerned. He looks back at me over his shoulder once before running to catch up with his friends, and I'm left to contemplate why such a simple, everyday thing has had such a profound effect on me.

It makes me sad...but it also makes things better. Somehow. I almost want to thank him.

"Breha!"

I hear Riley's voice calling me. I look over and locate him a few yards away. It's lucky he's so tall, or else I would never have seen him through the crowd. I make my way over to him.

He puts his arm back around me, protectively almost, and we start walking away, going nowhere in particular as far as I can tell.

"You okay?" He asked.

I don't answer. I'm starting to realize a couple things.

The first thing is where I remembered Cedric Diggory from. After my first year, I never wanted to leave Hogwarts. I liked it here. I would miss my friends. I would miss the changing staircases and the ghosts and everything. I came from a magic home, but it paled in comparison to here. And I liked doing magic. It made me feel...powerful. Like I was a part of something bigger than myself. In later years, I would come to an understanding of the importance of this feeling to my own sanity. At the time, though-at age eleven, not yet corrupted by my own mind's chemical makeup-I just...liked it. And I didn't want to leave it, not even for a few months.

I was wandering through the castle, trying to cheer myself up, when I walked into something and fell back. I heard a grunt and looked up to find that I'd ran into a fourth year. Intimidated, I immediately attempted to look small and insignificant. It turned out unnecessary. The boy smiled warmly at me and held out his hand. I took it; he helped me up.

"You alright?"

I nodded quickly and made to walk away when he stopped me.

"Why so down?" he asked.

"Um...I-I...just...don't want to leave," I shrugged.

"I didn't want to, my first year, either," he nodded sympathetically. "Well, just remember, you'll be spending most of the next six years here. Try to enjoy your Summers, since it's not like you'll be able to see your parents all the time.

I smiled. "Thanks," I said.

"Any time," he laughed.

That might have driven me back into hysterics, the thought that we'd lost someone like that-someone who would stop to give advice to some kid they didn't even know, just because he was nice-if not for the second thing I realized.

There was something else in Harry's eyes, aside from everything else. There was hope.

Cedric was gone, but he'd left his mark on the school, and he was such a good person that I couldn't imagine that he wasn't already somewhere nice. Somewhere better than our world. Safer. You couldn't kill someone twice.

And as for the rest of us? It was hard not to feel guilty for moving on, for smiling, for being happy, but really, it was the only way to do his memory justice. Life moves on, whether we want it to or not. We just have to move along with it. It's what he would have wanted, anyway.

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_Dedicated to Blake and his family._

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A/N: Breha hinted at a few things about herself in this...I plan on a little bit more about her in the future, and Riley as well, so if it interests you what she meant when she said feeling useful was vital to her sanity, then keep a weather eye on my stories.

I also want to mention that Riley and Breha are both in Harry's year. They're twins, but in different houses-Breha's in Hufflepuff, Riley's in Ravenclaw.


End file.
